I first came across the word "period" when I was reading the Sweet Valley High book Jessica’s Secret.
I’d never heard of a period before — in a health sense. It was my dad, a physiologist, who took it upon himself to explain what it was. When I eventually got my first period in the midst of technology class, I didn’t think I was dying, despite the bloody mess on the back of my skirt. I was prepared, thanks to my dad — and the Sweet Valley Twins.
Yet, in many low-income countries, the word "period" is not up for discussion. So, when girls start menstruating for the first time, they don’t know what to do — many don’t even know what’s happening to them.
According to a United Nations study, one out of three girls in South Asia knew nothing about menstruation prior to getting their first period. International nonprofit WaterAid estimates that 48% of girls in Iran and 10% of girls in India believe menstruation is a disease.
A lack of knowledge, coupled with harsh conditions, mean girls and women face serious challenges when it comes to managing their periods.
Why? Many girls around the world still lack access to affordable hygienic menstrual products. Instead, they use improvised materials, such as rags or leaves, which are uncomfortable and can lead to leaks and infections. Girls also lack access to clean, safe private toilets. There is no clean water within or near toilets, which means it’s hard to clean up and discreetly dispose of used menstrual products.
Confined indoors for seven days and banned from using salt in food, women and girls often face harsh social taboos about menstruation, which excludes them from activities,such as cooking or praying — and even going to school.
Many young girls are forced to skip school during their period, because of embarrassment or lack of access to working, private washrooms. Others drop out altogether. Stopping school at an early age leaves them vulnerable to early marriage, violence, and forced sexual relations.
To improve health and increase school attendance of girls, Plan International, a child-rights organisation, and its Because I am a Girl campaign is addressing the social beliefs and norms that cause stigma and social shaming when it comes to menstruation.
From distributing hygiene kits to girls affected by disasters to constructing child-friendly toilets in schools across Asia and Africa, Plan International is working with communities to break the taboos surrounding menstruation. Together with local governments and schools, the organisation is training district health workers, teachers, and volunteers about the topic, as well as holding community theatre shows and hosting radio shows on the topic so girls can talk openly about menstruation.
Ahead, nine girls from around the world bravely open up about their first period. Why? Because menstruation matters to every girl. Period.
“When I had my first period, I felt so scared. I didn’t want to tell my family, so I went to my neighbour’s house,” said Janaki, 16, from Nepal.
“I didn’t take a bath for the first three days,” Janaki said. “Then, my friend’s mother tore a piece from an old sari for me to use as a sanitary pad.”
Even though she would clean the piece of cloth she used, she feared being exposed and would leave it to dry inside the room.
Photo: Courtesy of Plan International
Vevin first got her period in church.
“I told my dad, who was sitting next to me,” the 12-year-old girl from Indonesia said. “I had a terrible stomach ache and headache, so I left and found my mother, who got me some sanitary pads.”
Although there are no traditions to follow, there are a few things Vevin isn’t allowed to do.
“My mother has told me not to rinse my hair, get close to boys, water flowers, or eat sour food while I am on my period,” she said.
Photo: Courtesy of Plan International
“My first period came when I was 12 — a day after my sister started hers,” says Christine, 17, from Uganda. “When I saw blood on my knickers, I rushed to ask my sister where it was coming from. She said I had started menstruating, but I didn’t understand what she meant.”
Christine was told to have a bath and tell her mother about what had happened. “My mother bought me two pairs of knickers,” Christine said.
“When I asked her about the pads, she told me she uses rags and I should use the same. I got a cloth we were no longer using, tore it into pieces, washed it and dried it properly. That’s how I managed my first period and for the long time to follow.”
Photo: Courtesy of Plan International
Esha, 14, from India, always felt too scared to talk about menstruation.
“When I first started my period, I was aware of the changes in my body, but I was too shy to talk about it. At first, I used homemade sanitary pads, called ‘kapda.’ [It's] essentially just piece of cloth," Esha, pictured fifth from the left, said. "I was only able to use them two to three times after they had been washed with water and I had to make sure the rags were left to dry in the sun.”
The kapda was unhygienic and Esha often fell ill from using the rags, making it all the more difficult to go to school.
“My period means I have to miss school,” she said.
Photo: Courtesy of Plan International
“When I got my period, I knew I was facing a change,” Dilki, 17, from Sri Lanka, said. “Girls usually spend three to seven days in a secure place, such as a room in their house. During that time, only female members are allowed to see us — no men, family, or non-family members are allowed in. Then, we celebrate our first steps into womanhood.”
According to Dilki, the astrologer plays a major role when it comes to a girl’s first period. After her horoscope has been read, rituals are performed during auspicious times of the year.
Once those times are identified, girls receive their first bath early in the morning — usually from their mother. In rural Sri Lanka, a washer woman conducts the rituals of the bathing ceremony. Then, there is a big party for the girl, along with her family and friends, where she will receive gifts, such as gold or precious jewellery. This is often seen as the biggest celebration in a girl’s life before marriage.
Photo: Courtesy of Plan International
“I was 13 when I got my period. I thought I’d hurt myself,” recalls Alinafe (left), 15, from Malawi.
The teenager rushed to tell her friend, but they were both alarmed when the blood flow didn’t stop. When Alinafe’s mother found out, the young girl was sent to her neighbour’s house, where she was given some rags. Alinafe then went to stay with her grandmother in another community.
“I was told to stay inside my grandmother’s house for a week and taught how to wear rags, so I didn’t stain my clothes with blood and bring shame on my family,” says Alinafe.
Photo: Courtesy of Plan International
“The first time I got my period, I told my father,” says 11-year-old Chandarayani, who lives in a small village in Indonesia.
“It felt very strange, as I wasn’t expecting to see spots of blood on my underwear," she said. "I didn’t know how to handle it.”
Chandarayani’s father quickly told her mother. Chandaryani’s mother reassured her it was a normal process and showed her how to put on a sanitary pad.
Photo: Courtesy of Plan International
When Trem, 14, first got her period, she felt overwhelmed and embarrassed.
“I was collecting water from the well in the field, near to my village in Cambodia. Even though I’d heard about menstruation, I didn’t realise I was getting my period," she said. "I just felt panicked and unsure of what to do next.”
Trem quickly went home and told her elder sister and her mother what had happened — her father died when she was young. “My sister told me to have a bath. Then, she showed me how [to] use sanitary pads,” she said.
Photo: Courtesy of Plan International
Menstruation without underwear nor sanitary pads is one of the most difficult challenges a woman can face. More than 10,000 Burundi refugee women and girls in Rwanda are currently grappling with this situation. To address this, Plan International provided 3,668 women with undergarments and sanitary pads.
Burundian teenage girls in refugee reception centres and camps in Rwanda encounter many difficulties living as refugees, but having little knowledge about their reproductive health makes their lives even harder. Plan Rwanda is working to provide them with education, safe spaces, and materials to help them when they are having their periods.
For more on Plan International's work around the world, click here.
Photo: Courtesy of Plan InternationalLike what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?
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